When he returned, a moment or so afterwards, he found Sir Rowland standing by the lifeless body of his sister. He was always forgetting that his tummy was fifty-four years old. No great lover of state or state costume at any time, he was generally, towards the close of an evening, completely in dishabille, and in this condition he now presented himself to his subjects. Not fit to be dust on your boots. It would be a great matter, I must own, to bring Jonathan Wild to justice.
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